Possession
by lilyjack00
Summary: Kitty tipped her head back, closed lushly-lashed sapphire eyes, and shivered as Matt threaded his fingers through the tangled, shining strands to release them, copper red and flowing like liquid fire, down her bare alabaster back.
1. Chapter 1

_Possession, Chapter 1, "Frustration"_

Marshal Matt Dillon's tanned and calloused hands, belying their large proportions, were infinitely gentle as he carefully removed hair pins one by one from Kitty Russell's silken locks. Finally betraying a hint of the tall lawman's underlying eagerness, he laced his fingers beneath her intricate updo and gently tousled her curls loose as the remaining pins showered around her to the floor. They scattered among the various ruffled and lacy garments Matt had slowly and determinedly divested the beautiful saloon girl of only a few moments before.

Kitty's mind was reeling; she could not believe this was finally happening, albeit somewhat unexpectedly. She tremulously complied with his ministrations, feeling vulnerable as she stood in the middle of her bedroom, naked and exposed to Marshal Dillon's heated gaze for the first time. Kitty tipped her head back, closed lushly-lashed sapphire eyes, and shivered as Matt threaded his fingers through the tangled, shining strands to release them, copper red and flowing like liquid fire, down her bare alabaster back.

It was something Matt had been longing to do all night as he surreptitiously watched her flirt with rich cattle buyer Carl Phillips downstairs in the Long Branch. Kitty hadn't noticed Matt when he first strode through the doors of the noisy, crowded saloon, so he sipped watered-down whiskey alone at the bar, thankful for the burn in his throat and stomach to assuage the overwhelming ache in his chest. He'd barely managed to contain his pent up emotions as he pretended not to notice the well-dressed dandy from back east, loudly guffawing, then whispering conspiratorially in Kitty's delicate ear.

Tonight, she was wearing that black, strapless gown that took Matt's breath away whenever he saw her in it. All that exposed creamy white skin with outrageous curves swathed in dark fabric always drove him to distraction. But Matt was a plain-spoken man, not a poet. His words never quite managed to equal the depth and eloquence of his true feelings. He usually managed a simple yet heartfelt, "You sure look pretty tonight, Kitty." And she would smile her dazzling smile that made his heart skip a beat while he ducked his head a little and grinned. But right now, Matt's emotions were roiling because there was a possessive hand around the waist of that pretty dress he so admired, and it wasn't Matt's hand. Marshal Dillon wanted to slug that bastard Carl Phillips.

It had always been unspoken between Matt and Kitty. An understood taboo topic of conversation. Matt knew exactly what Kitty did when she occasionally took special customers upstairs to her room. It didn't happen often, and she tried to avoid entertaining under Matt's watchful gaze, but the sick feeling in his gut became worse with each passing "transaction" he happened upon. He'd hurriedly excuse himself from Chester's company and try to leave the Long Branch before he caught her quickly averted gaze as she led the moneyed gentleman slowly up the steep wooden stairs to her bedroom.

Matt and Kitty were good friends, and he bitterly reminded himself that it was none of his doggone business what she did for a living. He noticed she never took dirty cowhands or poor sodbusters to her bedchamber. Only the affluent could afford to savor the talents of the lovely and vivacious Kitty Russell. Night after night, it made him grit his teeth as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets in frustration to contemplate what went on up there. He'd bid a pensive "Night, Bill," to Long Branch owner Bill Pence and stalk out the swinging doors, trudging around the darkened, lonely streets of Dodge on his nightly rounds, trying in vain to get his dear friend, the lovely Miss Kitty Russell, out of his mind.

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Matt couldn't tell you exactly what made this night turn out so very differently from all the previous ones. It all happened so quickly. One minute he was sullenly nursing his cheap glass of whiskey at the bar, the next he caught Kitty's uneasy expression out of the corner of his eye.

That jackass Carl Phillips was acting as though he'd had too much to drink by the way his hands kept wandering to places Kitty obviously would rather not have them. She was trying in vain to diplomatically avoid his awkward fumbling, and Matt was by her side before he thought twice about it. He placed his impressive frame firmly between Kitty and her antagonizer, rumbling in a low tone, "Phillips, I think you've had enough tonight. Why don't you go on back to the Dodge House and sleep it off, what do you say?"

Startled by the intrusion, Phillips squinted up at him and slurred, "What are you talkin' about, Marshal?" He steadied himself with one hand on the bar and smiled slyly at Kitty. "I'm fine as frog hair," he crowed.

Matt placed his hands on his hips and aimed a steely-eyed stare at the slick little weasel in his expensive suit. "I think the lady here has made it clear to you that she doesn't want your hands all over her." He stepped closer to Phillips and added quietly yet menacingly, "You need to back off. Immediately."

Kitty tried to smooth things over, placing her hand on Matt's arm. "Matt, it's okay, really. You don't have to…"

Phillips staggered over to Kitty and slid his hand around her waist, dangerously close to her backside as Matt watched with growing fury her unsuccessful attempts to slip away from him. The inebriated man smirked, "I assure you, Marshal Dillon, that this lovely little soiled dove here has every intention…"

Matt cut off the man's demeaning remark with a solid right to the jaw. Carl Phillips went down like a sack of potatoes. The resulting thunk as he unceremoniously hit the floor was a satisfying balm to Matt's spirits. He motioned to two strapping ranch hands standing at the bar, "Eli, Frank, take this man to the jail and wait for Chester, will you? Tell him Phillips needs to sleep it off in a cell overnight."

"Yes, sir, Marshal," they answered amiably, tossing back their drinks hurriedly.

Kitty sighed in relief as they hauled the unconscious man out, heels dragging, and motioned Matt over to a nearby empty table. "Thanks, Matt. I appreciate what you did, but you really didn't have to go to the trouble. I promise I coulda' handled him fine myself."

Matt grumbled, "Kitty, I don't like it when men treat you that way."

"Well," she sighed, "it's all just part of the job…" She trailed off as she caught the expression on his face, a mixture of anger and frustration. "Matt, really, you shouldn't worry so much. I'm a big girl, and I can take care of myself." She tried to appease him with a little smile and a touch of her hand on his sleeve.

"That's what I'm afraid of…" he muttered under his breath.

One finely chiseled brow rose ever so slightly as she playfully countered, "Huh? What's that supposed to…"

"Never mind," he sighed resignedly. He relaxed a bit, gazing at her with her elbows propped on the table, chin in hands. His eyes took in the lovely expanse of her white shoulders, lightly freckled on top, blue eyes sparkling as she smiled warmly at him. He melted as he thought about what it would feel like to touch that soft, dewy skin, stroking it slowly until she sighed...

With that, Matt realized his hand was around Kitty's small wrist, his thumb smoothing over it in velvety circles. Kitty's eyes had widened in surprise at his sudden, unexpected action, but the connection between their bodies and their gazes was powerful and undeniable. Matt was utterly incapable of resisting her red-headed siren's song. He determinedly took her hand and pulled her firmly out of her chair. "Come with me, Kitty," Matt whispered in her ear.

Her mouth dropped open in surprise as he led her toward the stairs.

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Matt had been in Kitty's room before, but tonight was different. Matt was acting so strangely. As soon as she pulled the door shut behind them, he turned as though he were going to say something to her, quickly closed his mouth again, then went to pour them both a healthy dose of dark amber whiskey from the bottle on the dresser. She nonchalantly sipped the offered drink, gazing curiously up at him through her lashes, "You got something you wanna say to me, Matt?"

He tossed back his entire drink in one gulp and quickly poured himself another, absentmindedly wiping his mouth on his sleeve, then nervously straightening his hat.

"Matt, are you okay?" Kitty asked anxiously.

"Kitty, I… I hope you know how much I care about you. A fella' can't help but worry sometimes…"

"Oh, Matt…" Brows knitted in concern, she lightly touched his hand and gazed up at him.

Looking into her sweetly concerned blue eyes, he suddenly realized himself incapable of speaking any further. Slipping silently behind her, he took her drink and set it back on the dresser. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt his large hands come to rest on her bare shoulders and caress her tentatively with an impossibly gentle touch. To his great relief, she didn't resist. In fact, she unconsciously leaned her head to one side, which allowed him access to stroke her slender white neck and softly flushed cheek with the back of his hand.

When Kitty at last released the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding, she whispered, "Matt, what on earth has gotten into…"

He ceased her protestations with a gentle finger to her lush lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as his hands returned to her shoulders and slowly glided down her back. She shivered as his fingers found the top button of her daring strapless gown and, with a little urging, came undone. He hesitated for a moment, and when she didn't object, he unfastened the remaining buttons one by one as her mind whirled. The black dress slid down over her lavish curves and puddled on the floor in a voluminous mound of fabric around her feet.

Kitty couldn't believe this was happening. After all this time, Matt Dillon was treating her like a desirable woman, and not just a friend. Kitty had been so lonely for attention these last two years in Dodge. She knew that sounded ridiculous—a saloon girl longing for male attention. But all those groping, drunken, lascivious men who paid her money to share her favors, they meant less than nothing to her. It was simply a means to an end, that's all. She could hardly bear for them to touch her, and rarely did they bother to really look at her. Usually, she didn't even have to take off her clothes. She'd hardly have time to get her drawers off before the horny old goats were practically finished. They'd want to lie on her bed and sleep off their cheap whiskey, but she'd shoo them away nicely, taking her hard-earned money right out of their pockets. It was the only way she'd ever manage to…

Matt was untying her ruffled petticoats and letting them fall to the floor as her mind was jerked back to the dreamlike present. She was astonished to realize her dearest companion was slowly but surely undressing her. He tenderly sat her on the bed and, kneeling before her, removed her black leather high-heeled boots one at a time with a minimum of struggle. Next came her silk stockings and lace garters, his hands trembling as he slid them down her long, shapely legs. She became rather breathless when he drew her to her feet and at last managed to unfasten her silk corset and drawers, abandoning them on the floor with her other forgotten garments, leaving Kitty bare as the day she was born. His finishing touch was to release her coppery red tresses to flow down her back, and he turned her slowly to face the mirror.

He stood behind her, eyes burning with unreleased passion. Wrapping his arm round her small waist, he placed his hand possessively on her gently-rounded woman's belly. Her chest rose and fell rapidly with desire as the warmth of his hand spread downward seemingly of its own accord. He pushed his hat back on his forehead with one index finger, and she could feel his darkening blue eyes scorching her tender flesh as he silently admired her. His voice was a ragged whisper in her ear, "Kitty Russell, you are simply the most beautiful woman I have ever met…" Matt's voice broke before he managed to continue hoarsely, "I need you."

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Coming from Matt Dillon, man of few words, that was a declaration of deepest sentiment, and it made Kitty's head fairly spin. Before she could adequately recover from his unanticipated profession, he swept her up in his strong arms and placed her on the bed, back cushioned against plump pillows.

He held her hand and kissed the inside of one delicate wrist. Kitty could swear he must be able to feel the mad thumping of her heart in the veins beneath her skin. Seated facing her on the edge of the bed, he admired the breathtakingly lovely image before him, all creamy soft curves and fiery red curls. He took a deep breath and began haltingly, "I... Kitty... I need to…"

She grasped his hand tightly and implored, "What is it, Matt? You know you can tell me..." It was the troubled look in her expressive blue eyes that was his undoing.

As he gazed at her exquisite face and form, all he could think about was that he couldn't bear the thought of other men seeing her like this, coming up that staircase with her. At last, he screwed up his courage to murmur, "Kitty, I want you to stop bringing men up to your room."

She inhaled sharply and pulled her knees protectively to her chest. Her face looked stricken and she blushed slightly, exclaiming, "Matt, how can you say that? You know it's how I make my living…"

His eyes were pleading. "How you make your living? Can't you just work in the saloon? You don't have to bring men up here…"

"Matt, if I don't, I'll never make enough to…"

"Please, Kitty, it's drives me crazy when I see you…"

"Really, Matt, you think I like doing that sort of business?" Kitty took one of his big hands in both of her small, delicate ones and held it tightly against her chest. "Bringing those awful men up here and letting them touch me?"

Matt visibly flinched at her remark. When he failed to reply, she continued bitterly, "I hate them and I hate myself more, Matt. I think I die a little inside each and every time I have to…"

She trailed off sadly, and Matt tentatively reached out to stroke her flushed cheek with one finger. He said gently, "Then why do it to yourself, Kitty?"

Her desperate words flew out in a rush, "Bill Pence has promised to sell me half-ownership in the Long Branch. Do you know how much money I've got to save up? How else am I supposed to get that kind of cash, Matt?" She pressed his hand to her heart, and the beseeching look on her face made Matt's chest ache.

"Bill Pence? Partners?" Matt tried to wrap his head around the idea of Kitty as a business owner. He heaved a great sigh and rubbed his face tiredly. "Exactly how much more money do you need?"

She placed her hand on his cheek to placate him, "Only a few hundred dollars more, Matt. And then I won't have to bring men up here anymore. I promise! I'll be a full-fledged partner in this business, and I'll never have to do anything like that again. You understand, don't you, Matt?" Her eyes, liquid with tears threatening to spill onto her cheeks, searched his for some sign of compassion and understanding.

Matt took a deep breath and reluctantly extricated himself from her grasp. Standing, he unceremoniously emptied his pants pockets, spilling the contents onto her dresser. There were five silver dollars, several folded bills of indeterminate amount, the stub of a very short pencil, and several assorted bullets. He searched his vest pockets and came up with a few more coins and one more bullet, which he added to the pile. With that, he returned to Kitty on the bed, dropped a hot, molten kiss to the inside of one creamy thigh, making her shudder with passion. He then strode to the door, tipped his hat to her, and said, "I'll be back tomorrow, honey." Kitty's mouth dropped open in astonishment as he left.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

Possession 

"Mornin', Kitty," intoned Marshal Matt Dillon cheerfully as he straddled a chair turned backwards and plopped down opposite her at the table. Beside her sat Doc and Chester, eating breakfast on a red-checkered tablecloth at the Long Branch.

"Mornin'," Kitty murmured to her cup of coffee, eyes cast downward so as not to betray her true feelings with so many wary eyes around. _Stars above, what was I thinking last night, and what must Matt think of me? _She was incredulous that he was behaving so casually. _Men._

But Matt was too busy grinning coyly and diving into the plate of food the bartender had brought him to notice her reticence. "Sam, can I get some bacon to go with this?" he called out through a mouthful of fluffy buttermilk biscuits and gravy.

"Comin' right up, Marshal!"

Doc observed wryly, "With that appetite, you must've had a busy night last night."

Kitty's eyebrows were slowly creeping upward, and she tried not to look directly at Matt.

"Yeah, Doc," Chester joined in, "Mr. Dillon was in and out of the office for a goodly portion of the night. He sure was busy doin'….uh, what was you doin', exactly, Mr. Dillon?"

Matt took a long draw from his coffee cup and announced, "Well, Chester, I had a lot of…business…to take care of." He repeated cryptically as he chewed a bite of bacon, "Yep, I was takin' care of business."

Doc groused good-naturedly, "Oh for heaven's sakes, Matt, that's clear as mud… What in thunder is that supposed to mean?"

Chester jumped on Doc's challenge like a duck on a June bug, "Well, Doc, don't you know what he means? He means business. Forevermore, Mr. Dillon is the Marshal of this here town and…"

Kitty saw her opportunity for escape and rose quickly to the occasion, "If you'll excuse me, I have a little inventorying to do in the cellar for Bill. You two boys, please do let me know how this intriguing argument turns out, won't you? Good day, gentlemen." Matt's eyes widened in surprise when she stood up. Why in tarnation was she taking off when he'd just gotten here?

She was gone in a swish of long lavender-scented silk skirts before Matt had a chance to stand up.

Doc swiped his hand over his mustache and exclaimed, "Now look what you've gone and done, Chester. You scared away poor Kitty."

"Me?" Chester grumbled and crossed his arms. "I b'lieve you had as much a part in this as…"

Hurriedly wiping his mouth on his napkin, Matt interjected, "I, uh… I think I'll go help Kitty," but Doc and Chester didn't pay him any mind as they continued with their bickering. He headed for the cellar and the unpredictable object of his affections as fast as his long, lanky legs would carry him.

Matt found Kitty counting whiskey bottles by the glow of a lantern and furiously scratching figures on a worn ledger, all the while curiously muttering to herself. He could have sworn he even heard his own name mentioned. Matt didn't intend to make her jump when he sidled up behind her, but she let out a little squeak of surprise when he murmured, "Mornin', Sunshine" in her ear. He closed his eyes and inhaled the fresh, clean scent of her shining hair.

"Matt Dillon!" she exclaimed, clasping her hand to her heaving chest. "You should be ashamed of yourself, sneaking up on a girl like that…"

"Should I?" He steadily advanced on her as she backed warily towards the wall. Matt braced his hand above her shoulder, looming over Kitty. She felt dwarfed by his considerable bulk as his eyes swept up and down her elegant figure, swathed in deep purple silk. He reached out and tugged loose a red curl, wrapping it around his index finger, inviting roguishly, "My dear Miss Russell, how can I ever make it up to you?"

Kitty was mesmerized by the ardent look in Matt's clear blue, thick-lashed eyes. She'd always loved his beautiful eyes… Suddenly, Matt's full lips were on hers, kissing her passionately over and over again until she was completely breathless. "Oh, Matt," she gasped, but he was pulling her urgently towards him again, enfolding her lithe body against his hard one, kissing her desperately until her lips were swollen and tender. She felt light-headed and giddy, but Matt's strong arms supported her as she surrendered her mouth to his impassioned plundering.

There was a loud knock at the door as a familiar voice called out, "Mr. Dillon, I got something to ask you!"

Matt groaned and lowered his forehead to Kitty's silken shoulder. He was faintly aware of Chester's voice nattering on through the door about settling an argument between him and Doc, but all he could contemplate was the beautiful, breathless redhead in his arms. He raised her chin with his index finger, forcing her to look into his eyes. She was attempting to steady her breathing as she contemplated this paradigm shift in the behavior of her dear friend and companion Marshal Matt Dillon, but he cut off any further reflection with a soft, sweet peck on her enticing wet lips.

Chester's voice intruded plaintively once more, "Everthing okay in there, Mr. Dillon?"

Regretfully pulling away from Matt's embrace, Kitty Russell smoothed her hair as she hastily answered, "Be right there, Chester!"

She started toward the door, but Matt caught her arm and breathed expectantly in her ear, "I'll see you tonight, Kitty?"

Before opening the door for Chester, she answered quietly, "I'll see you tonight, Matt."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

Possession

Marshal Matt Dillon waited until well after midnight to show up at the Long Branch, which was still bustling even at this hour. The clamor of shouting, raucous voices competed with the pounding of the keys of the upright, as the energetic new piano player performed a merrily rousing rendition of "Camp Town Races." Matt knew Kitty would have her work cut out for her, waiting on the dozens of customers who visited the saloon nightly to wash the prairie dust out of their parched throats. Allowing a rowdy group of whooping young trail hands to pass through the entrance, Matt remained outside the swinging doors looking in, searching for a particular lady's familiar fetching form.

Through the large crowd of gritty cowboys, scruffy farmers, well-groomed townspeople, and gaily-dressed saloon girls, he spied Kitty standing in a dimly-lit corner with cattle rancher Edward Marion Morris, an enormous bear of a man known for his high living, large appetites and good humor. Matt's heart sank as he watched Big Ed drawing Kitty near to whisper in her ear, coaxing her with a thickset hand caressing her bare arm and holding a large wad of greenbacks enticingly in the other. Matt watched hopefully, heart in his throat, when she laughed good-naturedly and shook her head, starting to back away. But a cajoling Ed persevered, pulling her close and sliding the bills suggestively into the green satin, form-fitting bodice of her revealingly low-cut dress. Matt felt like he'd been punched in the gut when Kitty coyly gazed into Ed's expectant brown eyes and smiled prettily.

Marshal Dillon felt physically ill as he watched her take Ed's well-muscled arm and lead him out of the secluded corner. But, to Matt's surprise, she steered the burly man directly to the crowded bar and beckoned to Sam the bartender. Ed looked bewildered himself when she deftly reached into her dress above the generous swell of her bosom and extracted his money, placing enough on the bar for two whiskeys and thrusting the rest firmly into Ed's shirt pocket. She stifled his roar of protest, placing brightly-manicured fingertips over his lips as she tiptoed and spoke urgently into his ear for several moments. Ed's bushy eyebrows crept up his forehead as she talked and his expression slowly but surely turned to one of disappointed resignation. Kitty gave him a quick apologetic hug, but he returned it enthusiastically with an embrace of enormous proportions while she gave him an affectionate peck on the cheek. The two clinked glasses and sipped their whiskey, Big Ed giving Kitty an occasional amiable pat on the back with a beefy yet gentle hand. Meanwhile Matt released a pent-up sigh of relief that they were not climbing the stairs to Kitty's bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure if he could best Big Ed in a fight or not.

"'Scuse me, Marshal."

Matt jumped. "Huh? Oh, sorry, Ben. Go on ahead," apologized Matt as he stepped back to allow the elderly man to enter the saloon.

"Awful pretty girl, ain't she?" Ben chuckled knowingly as he shuffled forward.

"Ahh…what?" Matt stammered, flustered at being discovered spying on Kitty. "Oh, yeah, uh…yes, sir." Caught, red-handed. "Yes, she sure is," he repeated, puffing out a large breath.

"Awful pretty on the inside, too, if you ask me. A real nice gal," Ben winked. "I'd be keepin' an eye on her, too, if I were still as young as you."

Matt stared down at the sidewalk self-consciously and cleared his throat as Ben continued, "Yep, you better keep a close eye on that purty little red-headed gal, Marshal. Come and have a beer with me?"

"No…thank you though, Ben." He gave a sheepish chuckle. "Maybe later."

Ben cheerfully joined an old friend at the bar as Matt finally crossed the threshold into the saloon. He stood motionlessly, thumbs hooked in his waistband, until he caught Kitty's attention as she neatly downed the last of her whiskey. Her eyes shone when she noticed him observing her, and she hurriedly gave her apologies to Big Ed Morris.

Matt watched her set down her glass, refusing to take her eyes off him for an instant. Her cheeks blushed rose-colored as she crossed the smoky room, weaving between patrons, ignoring the shouted invitations from drunken cowboys, never breaking their powerful invisible connection. They stood gazing at each other, neither of them speaking. Finally realizing they might be behaving curiously in this very public place, they glanced around quickly to make sure no one had taken any notice.

Matt gestured toward a lone vacated table in the back of the crowded saloon and pulled out a chair for her. He quietly regarded his stunning red-headed companion while she sat gracefully and smoothed her flounced and feminine skirts.

"You're lookin' mighty pretty tonight, Kitty." Matt's usual compliment sounded innocent enough, but the fervent look in his eyes told a different story entirely. Kitty chewed on her lower lip as his scorching gaze seared a palpable trail across her body she swore she could feel clear through her dress.

All she could manage in response was a low, breathless, "Thanks, Cowboy." She could tell by the look in his eye that he was thinking about last night, and she flushed with self-conscious pleasure at the memory.

Matt was, in fact, thinking about last night. He was thinking about how Kitty Russell looked underneath all those feminine flounces and ruffles. He was remembering how soft and yielding she'd been as he undressed her slowly in her upstairs bedroom. He was recalling her shining red hair and how heavy and thick the curls felt as they tumbled free into his eager hands. He was reliving the smooth, velvety touch of her enticingly perfumed white skin when she rested gloriously naked in his arms. He was mentally kicking himself for leaving such a magnificent creature vulnerable and alone in her bed… But, honest to Pete, he'd had to get started on his plans, and quickly.

Matt rubbed his face to clear his head, then questioned earnestly, "What time do you get off tonight, Kitty?"

"I'll be free in less than an hour, Matt." She found herself utterly distracted by his luxurious mop of dark curls, itching to reach out and run her fingers through them, but unable to act upon her impulsive desire in this noisy, crowded barroom.

"I've got to meet with someone at the Lady Gay in a short while, but then I'll be back." He appraised her flushed expression and then quietly requested, "Will you wait for me?"

"I'll wait for you, Matt."

As he rose from his chair, Kitty fleetingly sensed Matt's fingers lightly stroke the tender skin on the back of her neck, making her shiver deliciously, and then he was gone.

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

Possession

Horace Hamilton, face flushed with impotent rage, stood over the high-priced, red-headed whore pressing a glinting knife to her lily-white throat. She breathed through her nose in ragged gasps, a blue bandanna stuffed in her mouth, arms futilely tugging against the cruel bindings of her own silk stockings that tied her delicate wrists to the bedposts. Kitty desperately prayed that Matt would make good his promise to return to the Long Branch within the hour, or else she was afraid this situation wasn't going to turn out too well for her.

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The saloon had emptied out pretty quickly after one in the morning, drunken patrons singing and staggering out the swinging doors a few at a time, saloon girls wearily trudging up the stairs to their rooms, some alone, some accompanied by a lucky cowboy. Horace had chosen that time to make his move on the exceptionally spirited, strikingly beautiful redhead everyone called Kitty, and whom some said was for sale…for the right price. Enraged at her rejection of his overly generous offer of a hundred hard-earned dollars for her services, his fury stoked by too much whiskey, he surreptitiously jabbed a wickedly sharp knife in her side and forced her quietly upstairs when Sam went into the back room, the few remaining inebriated customers also oblivious to her plight.

Once securely inside her bedroom, Horace Hamilton hissed menacingly into her ear horrible threats of agonizing disfigurement, all the while forcing her at knifepoint to undress down to her lacy undergarments. When he shoved her savagely onto the bed and tried to remove her stockings himself, Kitty viciously kicked at his face, knocking out his tooth and splitting his ugly lip to her very great satisfaction. Unfortunately, that only served to earn her a brutal punch to the jaw. The blow nearly knocked her out, and Hamilton took the opportunity as Kitty lay quietly moaning to roughly tear the silky garments from her limp form and use them to tightly bind her wrists to the bed.

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Marshal Matt Dillon walked into the nearly deserted saloon and scanned the room. "Sam, have you seen Kitty?"

"She was just here a few minutes ago, Marshal. She was talking with that Hamilton fella'. I don't think I like him any too much…"

Matt climbed the stairs and strode to Kitty's door, reaching out a tentative hand to knock when he detected a distinctly male voice speaking from inside. His heart quickly sank down to the pit of his stomach. He let his hand drop and used it to scrub wearily over his suddenly gloomy features. _Why? Why did she have to do this? It wasn't right for her to…_

At that moment Matt heard a muffled cry from behind the door. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he recognized Kitty's strangled voice crying out, obviously in distress. Instinctively, he smashed the door open with an explosive kick and rushed inside to find Horace Hamilton straddling his beautiful Kitty, who lay half-naked and bound beneath him. The filthy bastard had laid aside his knife to unbutton his pants while he pinned the kicking, struggling saloon girl with the weight of his body.

Matt was across the room to the bed in three quick strides. He furiously threw a bone-crunching punch at Hamilton's jaw, enough to knock him off Kitty, crashing clear onto the floor. Hamilton staggered to his feet, shaking his head and exclaiming incredulously, "Come on, Marshal, what's all this fuss over a cheap whore!"

Matt's enraged roar as he jumped on top of the man was heard downstairs by Sam, who rushed off to find Chester. Matt saw red as he ferociously pummeled Hamilton again and again. He was blind with rage, senselessly trying to obliterate the man's face and cruel words from his mind. He suddenly became aware of a voice shouting in his ear, "Mr. Dillon! Stop! Please stop! You're gonna' kill him!"

Matt came to himself sitting on top of a beaten and bloodied Horace Hamilton who had one eye nearly swollen shut and three teeth knocked out. Two young trail hands that had accompanied Chester and Sam up the stairs, guns drawn, stared in astonishment at the scene before them. Quickly replacing guns to their holsters, they watched while Marshal Matt Dillon attempted to calm his ragged breathing and slow the pounding of his heart. He stood wearily and gestured to the moaning man on the floor. "You two boys take this piece of trash over to Doc Adams. Chester, lock him up when Doc's through."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Dillon," Chester dutifully replied as he and Sam hastily exited the room to give Miss Kitty some privacy.

"Yessir!" the trail hands chorused as each grabbed an end of the unfortunate Horace Hamilton.

Matt caught them glancing quickly toward the still helpless form of Kitty on the bed, and he hurried to cover her, growling at them angrily, "Go on, both of you. Get movin', on the double!"

Matt rushed to cut the bindings from Kitty's chafed wrists and pull the gag from her mouth as the door closed soundlessly behind them. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest as he gazed into her stricken blue eyes. Sitting hesitantly beside her on the bed, he placed a large, gentle hand comfortingly on her back; it was only then that she at last allowed hot tears to spill down her cheeks. She slowly turned to him, tightly wrapping her arms around his large frame, burying her face in his neck, and wordlessly Matt pulled Kitty's trembling body into his lap and allowed her to weep.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

Possession

Marshal Matt Dillon's strong arms protectively enfolded the softly weeping Kitty Russell, caressing her heaving back in long, soothing strokes. He tentatively reassured her with low murmurings, not sure of what exactly to say to comfort her, but desperately desiring to make her feel better. Tenderly, he rocked her like a child until her sobbing finally quieted, then fished a clean, white cotton handkerchief out of his pocket, drying her flushed face and letting her blow her nose.

"Thanks," she sniffled, looking up at him with liquid blue eyes, red-rimmed from her rare indulgence in a good cry. She ruefully added, "Yesterday, I told you I could take care of myself…" Her voice hiccupped and threatened to fail her, "but I guess I was wrong about that."

Matt graciously refused to say I told you so. Wordlessly taking her chin in his hand, he carefully examined her injured jaw, his stomach churning with hate for the man who could do this to Kitty. In spite of his care, she flinched painfully and he withdrew his hand, gazing apprehensively into her eyes. "Honey, this is a dangerous business you're in. I really want you to get out of it." He bowed his head and murmured, "I couldn't bear for anything to…" He glanced up at her stricken face and amended, "We'll talk about this some more later, after you get some rest." She didn't object.

Transferring her tenderly onto the mattress, Matt walked to the washstand and wet a cool cloth to place on her bruised face. Taking note of her drawn, exhausted features, he pulled back the covers on the bed for her to climb in, helping her lie back on the soft pillows. Kitty kept an anxious grip on his hand, so he sat next to her, softly caressing her forehead and uninjured cheek until she wearily closed her eyes.

When he rose to leave, her eyes flew open and she reached out to him, quietly imploring, "Please, don't leave me, Matt. I don't want to be by myself just yet." He was taken aback when she drew back the covers for him. But without thinking about it too much, he hung his hat on a peg behind the door. Kitty watched wordlessly as he unbuckled his gun belt and placed it on the dresser, then sat and removed his boots, sliding them under the bed.

Tucking his long frame under the blanket with her, Kitty gratefully nestled her body, still fevered and damp from her hard cry, against his. At first, he didn't know where to put his hands, but as she gave a deep, satisfied sigh, he enfolded her in his arms, relaxing into her warm softness. He stroked her back and her silken hair and whispered for her to go to sleep. Gratefully inhaling the sweet scent of her, he was comforted on this night to hold her so very near. Her breathing eventually became even, and he felt his own taut muscles slowly but surely unwind. His restless mind quieted itself with Kitty lying safely beside him. It felt right. Matt felt himself peacefully drifting off to sleep with Kitty in his arms.


	6. Chapter 6

Possession

Doc Adams clambered up the steep wooden staircase at the Long Branch, grumbling angrily to Sam the whole way, "Why didn't someone tell me before now that Kitty was hurt?"

"I'm sorry, Doc, I figured the Marshal would take care of things."

It was early morning, and Doc had indirectly heard the news from Chester that Kitty had been brutally attacked hours ago in her bedroom. He was incensed that no one had fetched him to examine her injuries. "Thunderation, man, how badly was she hurt?"

Sam's voice faltered a bit, "Well, Doc, I… I'm not for certain. Marshal Dillon sure did shoo us out of there pretty quick. I didn't really get a good look." His face turned beet red at the memory of the last glimpse he'd had of Kitty, slim wrists bound cruelly to the bed, stripped down to her filmy women's underthings.

Doc transferred his worn, black leather bag to his other hand and knocked softly. No one answered. He noticed the damage to the door, a telltale sign of last night's struggle. He found it was unlocked and turned the knob quietly, softly calling, "Kitty?"

Matt Dillon's large frame quite unexpectedly loomed inside the doorway. "Doc" he whispered. "She's still asleep."

Sam's eyes widened at the presence of the Marshal in Kitty Russell's bedroom at this unseemly hour of the morning and made his hurried excuses, "Doc, I'll be downstairs if you need me. Tell Miss Kitty I hope she feels better soon…"

Doc scowled at the lawman, "Well, Matt, are you going to let me in to see my patient, or are you just going to stand there all day?"

"Sure, Doc, come on in."

Kitty was lying curled on her side in bed, face drawn and tired even in sleep. Doc frowned when he saw the angry purple bruising of her jaw contrasted against the paleness of her troubled features. "What in heaven's name happened to her, Matt?"

"That son-of-a-bitch Horace Hamilton tried to force himself on her late last night. She gave nearly as good as she got, but he had a knife, Doc." Matt shook his head angrily at the memory of finding her helpless and victimized.

A small, sleepy voice emanated from the bed, "Matt?"

"I'm here, honey. And so is Doc. He wants to look you over and make sure you're okay."

Doc shuffled over and perched gingerly on Kitty's bedside, patting her hand sympathetically. "Kitty, honey, I need to examine you and make sure you're alright. Can you show me where it hurts?"

Matt stood vigilantly across the room observing as Doc worked, trying in vain to keep his utter fury in check with the discovery of each new bruise or abrasion on Kitty's tender skin. She tried not to cry out when Doc probed her worst injuries, making sure nothing was broken.

When he was finished, Doc drew a deep breath, took both her hands in his, and looked into her eyes gravely. His voice was raspy with barely-contained emotion, "Kitty, tell me the truth. Did that man violate you?"

Her cheeks flushed as she looked down at their joined hands, replying, "No, Doc. I promise. Matt came busting through the door before it got that far."

Doc wearily scrubbed a hand over his mustache and exclaimed, "Well at least that young man is good for something in this town. Sometimes I wonder what we pay you for, Matt, other than to take naps on the boardwalk in the afternoon…"

Matt rolled his eyes, walked to the bed and slapped Doc on the back. "Come on, Doc. Does she pass inspection?"

"I suppose. No broken bones, but you'll be mighty sore for a few days. I'm going to leave some salve for you to put on your abrasions after you get a nice, hot bath. Doctor's orders."

Doc's expression turned serious again as he hooked a finger under Kitty's chin and forced her to look directly at him. She was surprised to see his eyes were shining with unshed tears. His voice quavered as he spoke, "Kitty, I've known you for quite a while now, and I've come to think of you as a daughter. Yes, it's true. And I feel like I need to say this: you need to be more careful. You need to be more particular about who comes up those stairs to this room. Do you understand me, young lady?"

He pointed a finger accusingly at her. "One of these days, Matt might not be around to bust down that door in time!"

She blushed furiously this time and looked away, anywhere but at Doc's reproving face. She wrapped the cotton bed sheet defensively around her bare shoulders.

Doc's tone was urgent, "Kitty, honey, I'm not trying to make you angry, but I'm very concerned for your welfare. You're going to get seriously hurt one of these days. And I haven't even mentioned the threat of disease…"

Matt quickly interrupted. "Doc, Kitty told me she's almost saved enough money to buy half-interest in the Long Branch. She and Bill Pence will be partners."

Doc's expression brightened. "Hey, ya' don't say? That would bring you a lot of security, Kitty. You wouldn't have to put yourself at such risk…"

Matt cajoled, "Kitty, you see, it's not just me that's worried about you. All your friends want to see you safe. This is no kind of life for you, honey."

Kitty sat wordlessly, not knowing what to say. She felt defenseless against the arguments of these two men who were the most important people in her life.

Matt stepped closer and shoved his hands deep in his pants' pocket. "Kitty, I know I left you in a big hurry the other night…"

Kitty's eyes widened imperceptibly at Matt's vague reference to their interrupted evening together, but she realized gratefully that Doc would have no idea what he was referring to.

Matt entreated, "Kitty, I want to help you. Now, hear me out. You've always been there for me, and I want to return the favor. A man like me doesn't spend a lot of money…" He drew his hands from his pockets and pulled out two wads of cash, badly wrinkled and a bit grimy, but perfectly spendable, and dropped it on the bedcovers in front of her.

"You know I don't spend my cash on fancy clothes or belongings. I've saved my money for a rainy day. And I want you to have it. To put on the Long Branch. 'Cause I can't stand you living this kind of life for one more day, Kitty. Not one more day."

Doc rubbed his hand over his face and exclaimed, "Well, I want to help out, too. I've got a little bit saved up. Maybe between the three of us, we can scrounge up enough money to cover Kitty's half-interest."

Hot tears slipped from Kitty's incredulous blue eyes and rolled soundlessly down her cheeks. Overwhelmed by the generosity of her two dearest companions, she didn't know how to respond.

Matt suddenly began patting his vest as though he was looking for something. "I nearly forgot." He dug a small amount of cash from one of his vest pockets, added it to the bills on the bed, then began fishing in another vest pocket.

"I…uh…talked to some folks who owed me a little money. You know how it is, Kitty. Friends who are down on their luck..." He dug a sizeable handful of silver dollars out of his back pants pocket. _Clink_.

"People ask me for help sometimes. They know they can trust me…" He pulled some more folded bills from the other back pocket. More for the pile.

"Usually, I don't ask them to repay it…" He tugged up a pants leg and pulled off a sock, extricating a few slightly sweaty greenbacks. Doc's nose wrinkled as they were tossed onto the bedclothes.

"That's what I was busy doing the past two days…that's why I had to meet someone at the Lady Gay last night." He snapped his fingers and dug his boots out from under Kitty's bed. Doc eyes widened and he camouflaged a knowing smile by rubbing a hand over his whiskers.

Matt turned the boot triumphantly upside down and two twenty dollar gold pieces fell out. He confessed, "I won that in a poker game."

Doc coughed to cover a chuckle. "Well, my dear, what do you say? Are you ready to begin your life as a respectable young businesswoman?"

Matt anxiously awaited Kitty's response.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

Possession

Kitty Russell lay soaking in a steaming hot tub of water, eyes closed wearily against the late morning sun streaming through her bedroom window. She tried to put out of her mind the terrifying and ultimately eye-opening events of the previous evening, and instead dwell on the opportunities that lay ahead. She was convinced there were no two kinder souls on earth than Doc Adams and Matt Dillon. Incredibly touched by their overwhelming concern for her personal welfare, she had humbly accepted their offer to provide the remainder of the money required for partnership in the Long Branch with Bill Pence. With one condition: she fully intended to pay each of them back every red cent as soon as humanly possible.

Kitty hadn't come this far as a single woman in the world to become indebted to any man, even if they were her best friends. Alone, she had saved thousands, quite an accomplishment in this male-dominated world for someone of her gender and relatively young age. Kitty was shy of her goal only a few hundred dollars, but Matt and Doc vehemently insisted that she accept the small loan in order to speed her purchase and secure her some sense of safety, not to mention their own peace of mind.

Kitty had dried her eyes on Doc's proffered hankie, and they'd all shaken hands in agreement. Then she'd dispensed with formalities, kissing them both soundly on the cheek. Doc had chuckled happily and Matt's ears turned pink as he grinned contentedly.

The three also agreed to keep their deal strictly to themselves. Kitty's reputation as an independent businesswoman in town was at stake.

With a sigh, Kitty lay her head back against the tub and pressed her fingertips to her throbbing temples. She tentatively touched her injured face, quickly realizing that wasn't such a good idea when it produced a shooting pain throughout her jaw. Every muscle in her body ached, muscles she didn't even realized she had! She hoped the powders Doc had given her to ease the pain would start working soon. He'd said it would also help her sleep, which was the best medicine in the world, according to Doc. Kitty closed her eyes and quietly drifted off...

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Marshal Matt Dillon balanced a tray of food in one hand and tapped quietly on Kitty Russell's door with the other, not wanting to wake her if she'd managed to fall asleep again after taking Doc's prescribed dose of medicine. He'd left her long enough to check in with Chester at the office, then picked up some breakfast for her at Delmonico's. She really needed to get something in her stomach. He didn't know when she'd eaten last.

When Matt received no answer, he quickly slipped inside the room and closed the door soundlessly. That's when he saw her, lustrous red hair gleaming in the sun's rays as she slept peacefully. In the bathtub. Oh lordy...

"Kitty?" No answer.

Louder this time. "Kitty, honey, it's time to wake up..." She didn't stir.

He set the tray of food on the dresser, rubbed a hand worriedly over his face, then tried again, "Kitty, baby, you shouldn't be sleeping in the tub. It's not safe…"

At last she awakened, scrubbing a wet hand over her eyes to clear them. "Mmm?" Her voice was a tiny, silvery thread.

"Kitty, I think Doc's medicine has knocked you out. You need to get out of that tub."

She mumbled a few incoherent words and closed her eyes again.

"Whoa, don't go back to sleep. Wake up now. You've got to get out."

Kitty gave a huge sigh and slowly sat up, drawing her knees to her chest. Matt gnawed on his thumbnail.

"Kitty…"

"I can't."

"Yes, you can. You have to."

"I can't," she murmured. "I'm so dizzzzy…"

Oh lordy. He was gonna kill Doc.

Matt fetched Kitty's towel and took a big breath. As he drew her out of the tub, he tried not to look at all those wet curves, glistening in the sunlight. Oh, he tried. He tried not to notice the slickness of her soft skin, rosy from the heat of the bath, and the escaped tendrils of curling hair clinging damply around her face and slim neck.

He enveloped her voluptuous dripping body in the towel as she clung to him unsteadily, willing his own body not to respond. Kitty sighed heavily against his damp chest. His body was a damn traitor.

"Kitty, let's get you to the bed." No response.

Alrighty... He slid an arm under her limp knees, effortlessly scooped her up, fluffy towel and all, and carried her to the bed.

Matt placed her head gently on the pillow, mindful of her bruises, and covered her protectively with the quilt.

"Kitty, you've got to let go of my neck."

"Uhn-uh."

"Yes, you do. You need to get some rest."

"Hmm?"

"No, honey. Let go. Really, I can't stay with you this time. I've got to work… "

She frowned sleepily at him.

"…and I've got my own reasons… But most of all, you need your rest. I'll be back to check on you soon."

Matt gently unwound Kitty's arms from his neck.

A small, faraway voice, "Matt?"

"Yes, honey?"

"My head doesn't hurt anymore…"

"I can't say I'm surprised." He stooped and kissed her softly on the forehead. She was asleep before he made it back halfway across the room.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

Possession

_2/18/12 Author's Note: I've revised this chapter a bit because it's important to me that it not simply be a "tasty smut biscuit dripping with butter and honey", although those are awful good, I'll admit. Originally I didn't feel I adequately portrayed the tenderness of M/K's relationship and Kitty's utter astonishment at being treated so kindly by a man. The changes are relatively small, but I hope they express my concept of their unique relationship more satisfactorily. Also, this chapter is Rated M for its vivid depiction of a consensual adult relationship._

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Sitting at her dressing table, Kitty Russell grimaced at her disheveled reflection in the mirror, attempting to drag a brush through her snarled hair. She'd lain in bed for nearly three whole days, exhausted, aching, and lethargic from the potent concoction that Doc had insisted she drink daily, but at least it allowed her to rest while her body and mind healed. She awoke only long enough to take a few bites of the food Matt considerately brought her on a tray several times a day, afterward blearily burrowing back into the pillows with a groan and drifting off to a dreamless sleep before he could even tiptoe back to the door.

But last night she'd refused Doc's medicine, claiming she was starting to feel much better…and wouldn't feel normal again until she stopped taking the bitter stuff that made her feel so thoroughly woozy. Mercifully, this morning she'd woken feeling fairly clear-headed while her nagging soreness had dissipated considerably.

She'd taken a relaxing, lavender-scented bath, and thankfully this time she could actually remember climbing out of the tub when she was finished. It was strange really, but she couldn't recall getting out of the tub and slipping into bed that first day after her attack. Doc's medicine obviously did funny things to her head, all the more reason to stop taking it now.

Kitty was struggling with a particularly bad tangle and muttering a few choice words about the situation when she heard Marshal Matt Dillon's now familiar tap at her door.

"Come in!" she called grumpily.

Matt was pleasantly surprised to find a fresh-faced but irritated Kitty in her pale pink dressing gown. The garment fairly dripped with tiny feminine ruffles, and he always thought she looked like a delicious ice cream confection that would literally melt if he touched her. Truth be told, he'd like to do considerably more than just touch her. He'd fancy taking a mouth-watering bite…

Matt chuckled as she cursed under her breath the maddening knots in her hair. "Here, give me that," he demanded. "Well, no wonder. You've left half your pins in…"

He began to gently remove the offending hairpins from their hiding places among her uncooperative curls, combing the tousled tresses with soothing fingers as he worked. Carefully attempting to avoid pulling her hair, he skillfully applied the brush to her thick mane of fiery red, untangling the ends first and gradually moving up. Matt was pleased when he sensed Kitty's body unwinding, her muscles relaxing as he appreciatively labored over the beautiful silken strands of copper. Kitty closed her eyes gratefully and released a small sigh as Matt raised gooseflesh on Kitty's shivering arms with every delicious stroke of the brush on her sensitized scalp.

She couldn't remember the last time someone had done this for her. Kitty was wholly taken aback at Matt's thoughtfulness and compassion. It was so nice to be cared for and, to be honest, utterly foreign to her. No man had ever treated her this way. Thoughts of Carl Phillips, Horace Hamilton and other men of their ilk faded to nothingness as Matt patiently brushed until Kitty's hair shone sleekly.

"Mmmm…" she unconsciously hummed deep in her throat. Matt's heartbeat quickened at the captivating sound.

Kitty felt so comforted, cherished even. Suddenly emotional, her damp eyes gazed up into Matt's appreciatively, and she gripped his big hand in hers. Blue eyes crinkling charmingly at the corners, Matt leaned over her for a small, sweet peck on the lips as he laid the brush on the dressing table.

But Kitty smiled enigmatically, and surprised him by reaching up to clasp each side of his collar in her hands, determinedly pulling his face nearer to hers. Purring contentedly, she nipped at his bottom lip with her teeth, then kissed him deeply.

He drew back, breathing unevenly, and questioned, "Kitty, are you sure? Do you think you're really ready for…?"

"Matt, why are you so good to me?" Her eyes shone with unshed tears, and she quickly ceased his concerns by fiercely covering his lips with her own.

Matt supposed Kitty knew what was best…

Their mouths slid hotly together, each hungrily tasting the other. His lips traveled ravenously across her white skin, taking care not to hurt her still-healing bruises. Kitty slipped up out of the chair and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, pressing her lush body against his hard one as she fully offered her eager mouth for plunder. His pants began to feel tighter with each needy moan that emanated from Kitty's slim throat.

She pushed him hard against the door, removing his hat blindly even as she kissed him over and over, smiling as she located the peg to hang it up even with her eyes closed. She ran her fingers through his irresistibly thick, wavy curls as she'd wanted to do for so very long.

Kitty deeply inhaled his musky, masculine scent as he fumbled to open her dressing gown and ardently stroke her voluptuous breasts. Whimpering quietly with his thorough ministrations, she impatiently pulled herself up and wrapped her long legs around his narrow waist, pressing her center appreciatively against his obvious arousal.

When she reached down with one hand to hastily unbutton his pants, Matt cautioned breathlessly, "Wait a minute, Kitty, let's slow down a little." He withdrew her hand from his waistband to press his lips to it sweetly, and explained, "I don't want to hurt you, honey…let's take it slower, all right?"

He wrapped his hands around her small waist and carried her to the bed, laying her gently on the tousled sheets. Stripping off his vest, he tossed it carelessly to the floor and unbuttoned his shirt to reveal his broad, muscled chest.

He eagerly drew her gown open to gain access to her creamy, naked body. After he'd abruptly left her alone in bed the other night, Matt had been tormented by dreams of Kitty's beautiful bare breasts, round little bottom, and velvety thighs ever since. He wasn't going to make that mistake twice…

Matt's impassioned gaze swept across her exquisite form, and Kitty shivered deliciously in anticipation. He cupped her foot in his hand and kissed her slim inner ankle. Her eyes widened as his searing kisses traveled ever so slowly up her inner calves and thighs. Matt's lips left a damp trail of desire on her skin until Kitty's breathing became ragged with yearning.

Then Matt found her most secret of spots and fervently worshipped her with his full wet lips, teeth and tongue. No one had ever loved Kitty like this before, and briefly she wondered where a nice boy like Matt had ever learned to… _Ohh_…

Matt wrapped his strong arms around her quivering thighs to help support her and allow himself better access. Helplessly, she writhed and whimpered as he lovingly pleasured her, while her trembling fingers threaded desperately through his dark hair. He couldn't get enough of her sweetness, and continued to nip and stroke her with his talented mouth until she thought she might shatter.

At long last Kitty was flooded with overwhelming sensation as the intimate muscles of her body contracted again and again and an impassioned sob of ecstasy escaped from her throat. A cool sheen of sweat bathed her porcelain skin, and she lay bonelessly, pleading to her lover, "Please, Matt, stop…"

He reluctantly ceased, but his attention was soon drawn elsewhere. She gasped when his slick tongue slipped into her bellybutton. He growled low in his throat, his eyes sparkling mischievously up at her. Matt's mouth burned a determined path up her body, scorching her belly and last of all her aching, heaving breasts until they became so tender she cried out in abandon.

She was jolted with sensation as his long fingers suddenly slipped down and parted her swollen folds. Finding Kitty glistening, deliciously slick and hot, Matt knew she was at last ready for him. Matt wasn't a braggart, but he was a realist when it came to his size. And if there was one thing he did not want to do, it was hurt his sweet Kitty.

She sat up and helped him pull his shirt over his wide shoulders and down his well-muscled arms. While she busied herself unbuttoning his pants, Matt stopped her long enough to cup her chin in his large hand and give her a slow, passionate kiss. She was titillated to taste herself on his lips, and she melted into his embrace, deliciously pressing her bare breasts against his naked chest for the first time.

Her senses were nearly painfully heightened; it made her feel light-headed and she clung to him, stroking the warm skin of his back. Kitty's heart fluttered as her fingertips skimmed over scars and old injuries that had been left from Matt's fights and gun battles. Her chest tightened as she encountered each one, reliving the pain and fear that she would lose her closest companion each and every time. But then Matt playfully distracted her by nipping at her ear with his teeth, his heated breath wantonly scorching her neck, and at last she could wait no more.

"I want you inside me, Matt," she whispered, and he groaned hungrily at her words.

She helped him shed the remainder of his clothing and blissfully took in the impressive sight of his glorious nakedness. Yes, she was taken aback by his size, but she knew Matt would be gentle with her.

He stripped the robe from her shoulders and tenderly lay her back against the downy pillows. Matt took his time, infinitesimally slowly, unwilling to hurt her in the least. She gasped with the feeling of fullness as he entered her body, and for a moment she thought she would burst. But gradually her inner muscles relaxed, and Matt slowly began to move inside of Kitty.

Tears slipped from the corners of Kitty's sapphire eyes, overwhelmed with emotion as Matt gently made love to her for the first time. His heart swelled in his chest at the sight, and between leisurely strokes, he kissed away her salty tears, savoring the taste on his tongue. When she wrapped her arms around him, he thrust into her again and again, harder and faster, feeling like he was home at last. Kitty arched her back to meet him, lips parted in ecstasy, and finally he cried out, spilling his warm seed inside of her.

Wearily, Matt moaned and lay atop her heavily, breathing in the sweet scent of her skin. Through the sated, lethargic fog of his brain, he could smell lavender soap, distinctly feminine sweat and Kitty's own exotic musk. Suddenly realizing he was crushing her, he made as if to move away, but she held him close.

"Stay inside me, Matt. Don't move yet. You're not hurting me."

He kissed her nose, then placed his fingers where they two were still joined as one. He gently massaged and stroked her sensitized skin over and over again until her breathing quickened and she cried out helplessly once more.

"You're my sweet girl," Matt whispered.

In absolute wonder, she breathed tentatively, "No one has ever taken such good care of me, Matt."

He shifted his weight, gathering her in his strong embrace, pressing his lips to hers.

Matt nuzzled her ear and murmured, "I've got to go to Hays City tomorrow morning. Leaving early. Got a trial…"

Kitty groaned.

"Don't worry, I should be back in just a week. When are you going to talk to Bill about purchasing half-interest in the Long Branch?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good."

Completely spent and utterly satisfied, Matt and Kitty fell asleep in each other's arms.

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Author's Notes:

The action in this fic leads directly to the second season episode of _Gunsmoke_ entitled _Daddy-O_ (1957), in which Matt learns that Kitty has purchased a half-interest in the Long Branch Saloon from owner Bill Pence. Doc explains that Kitty has "been saving her money." My version of events leading up to this episode fits in reasonably well, if you consider that Doc and Matt, in my story, "keep it on the down low" that they loaned a small portion of the money to Kitty, and are feigning surprise at her purchase for the benefit of Chester, sweet clueless wonder that he is.

The notion that Kitty sold something other than whiskey and beer to her customers is not mine.  
>The following quotes from Amanda Blake I've taken from <em><span>"Perfectly" Amanda: Gunsmoke's Miss Kitty To Dodge and Beyond<span>_ (Five Star Publications, 2010) by Becky Burgoyne:  
><span><br>_"because Kitty, actually, for all intents and purposes, was a hooker. On radio they played it that way. Georgia Ellis was Kitty on radio and did it very well vocally. They could do a lot of things on radio that we couldn't do on television…I had to find a very fine line between being a hooker and being a schoolmarm for visual purposes. We didn't want any letters coming in saying, 'How dare you show that terrible woman on the screen.'…We had to make her just pure enough and just bad enough to be believable. It was very difficult to find the character, and I scratched around longer that anyone (on the show) looking for her." (NPR Radio interview, Amanda Blake and Ken Mothoson, Nov. 6, 1975.)_

Amanda's first interview in regards to her becoming "Miss Kitty" was nearly her last as she recalled in an interview for TV Guide._ "When I first started…a reporter asked me what Kitty was…I said, 'Why she's a tramp.' I thought it was common knowledge. But CBS screamed. I almost lost my job." (Burgoyne, p. 50.)_

I'd like to thank everyone for reading this, my first and perhaps only _Gunsmoke_ fanfic, which has been knocking around in my head since the late, great James Arness passed away in June. I've been a fan since I was a little girl in the 1970's, sitting in my mama's lap in our brown naugahyde recliner, breathlessly watching our favorite show and ultimately being enormously frustrated week after week when Matt Dillon and Miss Kitty failed to kiss. Even at that tender age, I was acutely aware of how desperately they loved each other, but didn't yet comprehend that just because the writers didn't show "kissin'" on TV, didn't mean it weren't goin' on "behind the scenes."

This legacy happily lives on as I attempt to discreetly explain this concept to my two beautiful foster-adopt girls who have recently been introduced to _Gunsmoke_ this past summer and since become hopelessly addicted alongside me, with the help of Netflix, DVD's and Youtube. My eleven-year-old struts around the house in her red cowboy hat, suede boots, brown vest handmade by her Mamaw, and toy gun belt with her own personal addition of a string securing the holster to her leg just like her hero Matt Dillon wears.

Now that I'm all grown up and have obviously never gotten over one of history's greatest fictional romances, it has been so rewarding and cathartic to finally get this little story out of my system. I hope you enjoyed reading it half as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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